Ferrari’s brow was contracted in a musing frown and he answered not.  He still looked at me, and I returned his look without embarrassment.  Finally he roused himself, smiled, and finished drinking his glass of Montepulciano.  Then he rose to go.

“You will permit me to mention your name to the Countess Romani, I hope?” he said, cordially.  “I am certain she will receive you, should you desire it.”

I feigned a sort of vexation, and made an abrupt movement of impatience.

“The fact is,” I said, at last, “I very much dislike talking to women.  They are always illogical, and their frivolity wearies me.  But you have been so friendly that I will give you a message for the countess—­if you have no objection to deliver it.  I should be sorry to trouble you unnecessarily—­and you perhaps will not have an opportunity of seeing her for some days?”

He colored slightly and moved uneasily.  Then with a kind of effort, he replied: 

“On the contrary, I am going to see her this very evening.  I assure you it will be a pleasure to me to convey to her any greeting you may desire to send.”

Oh, it is no greeting,” I continued, calmly, noting the various signs of embarrassment in his manner with a careful eye.  “It is a mere message, which, however, may enable you to understand why I was anxious to see the young man who is dead.  In my very early manhood the elder Count Romani did me an inestimable service.  I never forgot his kindness—­my memory is extraordinarily tenacious of both benefits and injuries—­and I have always desired to repay it in some suitable manner.  I have with me a few jewels of almost priceless value—­I have myself collected them, and I reserved them as a present to the son of my old friend, simply as a trifling souvenir or expression of gratitude for past favors received from his family.  His sudden death has deprived me of the pleasure of fulfilling this intention—­but as the jewels are quite useless to me, I am perfectly willing to hand them over to the Countess Romani, should she care to have them.  They would have been hers had her husband lived—­they should be hers now.  If you, signor, will report these facts to her and learn her wishes with respect to the matter, I shall be much indebted to you.”

“I shall be delighted to obey you,” replied Ferrari, courteously, rising at the same time to take his leave.  “I am proud to be the bearer of so pleasing an errand.  Beautiful women love jewels, and who shall blame them?  Bright eyes and diamonds go well together!  A rivederci, Signer Conte!  I trust we shall meet often.”

“I have no doubt we shall,” I answered, quietly.